


turn the volume up, turn off the lights

by doctorkaitlyn



Series: Morphology [4]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 09:56:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15289020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorkaitlyn/pseuds/doctorkaitlyn
Summary: Abruptly, Zack finds his mind turning to the intro to psychology class he took in first year. There’s not a lot he remembers about the class, but he can recall bits and pieces of one particular study, something about dogs coming to associate the mere sound of a bell ringing with food, which caused them to salivate at the thought.Zack’s pretty sure that from now on, he’s going to be like those dogs, except instead of a bell, it’ll be alien documentaries, and instead of the thought of food, it’s going to be the thought of Shane sucking Ryan off.





	turn the volume up, turn off the lights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElasticElla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/gifts).



> written for the July edition of the [Shyan Scavenger Hunt](https://shyanscavengerhunt.tumblr.com/), using an interpretation of the prompt "aliens!" technically, this is part of the Morphology series but can be read as a standalone (I think). regardless, it takes place awhile after the third part of said series. 
> 
> keeping in line with the rest of the series, title from [Stay Ignorant](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SbiuMrWi5M) by Don Broco.

Technically, this counts as studying.

Or, rather, it counts as studying for Ryan and Shane - while Zack is also taking a film studies course on the history of documentaries, he wasn’t lucky enough to get into the same section as the two of them, and while they’re only six weeks into the semester, his professor has yet to assign a movie that’s newer than the early eighties, and he _definitely_ hasn’t assigned any documentaries about anything as interesting as actual fucking _aliens_.

The three of them are sprawled across the massive couch that takes up nearly two-thirds of the living room in the apartment that Zack shares with Steven, a guy on his intramural basketball team. Zack is slumped against one armrest, legs propped up on the wobbly coffee table, hand resting a few inches away from the stupidly large bowl of popcorn that’s between him and Ryan, who is taking notes on his laptop; after only twenty minutes, he’s already filled one page of a word document and is making short work on the next. Shane, on the other hand, is marking up a notebook by the gently flickering light of the television.

“I can turn on a lamp, if you want some more light,” Zack comments, tossing a piece of popcorn at Shane’s head to get his attention. 

“I’m good,” Shane answers as he plucks the piece of popcorn from his lap and pops it in his mouth. “I’ll just steal Ryan’s notes if I can’t read mine.”

“Like fuck you will,” Ryan mutters, fingers tapping away at the keyboard as some talking head discusses how mass hysteria could explain some UFO sightings. “Write your own damn paper.” He’s the very definition of focused, and his intensity is a little unnerving, even though Zack has been on the receiving end of it more times than he can count.

(Exhibit A: the intramural games they play against each other, where the fact they’re dating goes right out the window in favor of muttered insults and death glares that should _not_ be hot, at all.)

Glancing over Ryan’s stooped back at Shane, Zack rolls his eyes. Shane points at Ryan’s head and then mimics his own exploding, all while wearing one of the fondest smiles Zack has ever laid eyes upon. He finds himself mirroring it as he pulls his legs up onto the couch and slumps down so that his head is on the armrest, his toes are buried under Ryan’s thigh, and the popcorn is resting on the coffee table.

He still has a hard time believing that he’s really a part of _this_ , that the three of them managed to take an unconventional, messy situation and turn it into something that actually _works_. It’s not perfect, not by a long shot - they’re still figuring out new things about each other every day, figuring out how they fit together both separately and together - but at the end of the day, it _does_ work. 

He’s pretty sure that this wasn’t the kind of knowledge he was supposed to gain from college, but hey, it’s been more useful than most of the stuff he’s learned in class so far.

When the documentary switches from the talking head to a vaguely cheesy re-enactment, he closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to fall asleep (not only because that would be rude), but it’s been a long week, with too many hours spent juggling assignments, class, basketball practice and games and too few spent in his bed (or Ryan’s, or Shane’s). Besides, he doesn’t need his eyes open to pay attention to the documentary; the narrator is doing a decent job at describing what’s on screen, and he has a fairly smooth voice that’s quite pleasant to listen to, a nice change from most of the weird stuff Ryan watches.

He’s just going to rest his eyes for a bit. That’s all.

&.

When he next flicks his eyes open, his head is groggy and heavy. With a groan, he rubs at his eyes and half-sits up, ready to apologize for drifting off.

Instead, the apology dies in his throat.

Sometime during the hour or so that he was asleep, Ryan and Shane apparently decided to take a break from studying, because while the documentary is still rolling, they’re definitely not paying attention to it anymore. Ryan’s laptop is on the coffee table, lid half-closed, like it was deposited there in a hurry, and Shane’s notebook is on the carpet, pages splayed apart, pen resting in the spine. Absently, Zack notes that the bowl of popcorn has upset and there are kernels spilled across the floor, but the thought of cleaning them up disappears from his brain almost as fast as it manifested, because he has more important things to focus on.

Namely, the fact that Shane is jerking Ryan off.

Ryan’s head is resting against the back of the couch, his eyes are closed tightly, and his lips are parted, spilling forth a torrent of panted breaths and sharp gasps. Shane is beside him, pressed against Ryan from knee to hip, mouthing at the curve of his neck and murmuring words that Zack can’t quite make out. Ryan’s legs are splayed apart, and his jeans are still open, belt hanging loose against his thigh. His dick is jutting from the slit of his boxers, shiny with what Zack is willing to bet is spit, and Shane is slowly working him up and down, crowded over into Ryan’s space.

“Fuck,” Ryan gasps, dropping his own hand to Shane’s thigh. “Don’t stop.”

Zack has to swallow repeatedly in order to bring enough moisture into his dry mouth to talk.

“If you get come on this couch, Steven will kill all of us,” he says, levering himself up and sliding over until his shoulder is brushing against Ryan’s. “And I don’t know about you two, but I’m too young to die.”

“You’re also too pretty to die,” Shane replies. Coming from anyone else, it would probably sound flippant and insincere, but from Shane, it’s the most authentic of compliments. With one last kiss to the side of Ryan’s neck (it’s hard to tell, but based on the way Ryan’s shoulders suddenly tense up, Zack is willing to bet Shane added some teeth to that kiss), Shane backs away. “Don’t worry. None of us will have to face the wrath of Steven Lim tonight.” With that, he slides off the couch with a surprising amount of grace, drops down between Ryan’s spread knees, and swallows him down. Ryan practically _yelps_ , and his hand goes straight for Shane’s hair, twists tightly into the messy brown strands. His other hand scrabbles down Zack’s arm until it finds his fingers, and after they’ve slotted together, he squeezes tightly and turns his head so that his forehead is braced against Zack’s shoulder. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, sounding nothing less than absolutely _wrecked_. “Feels so fucking good.”

Abruptly, Zack finds his mind turning to the intro to psychology class he took in first year. There’s not a lot he remembers about the class (he’d taken it primarily because it had a reputation as a GPA booster, a well-deserved reputation, as he learned), but he can recall bits and pieces of one particular study, something about dogs coming to associate the mere sound of a bell ringing with food, which caused them to salivate at the thought.

Zack’s pretty sure that from now on, he’s going to be like those dogs, except instead of a bell, it’ll be alien documentaries, and instead of the thought of food, it’s going to be the thought of Shane sucking Ryan off.

He’s achingly hard, but he’s in no rush to get himself off; for the time being, he’s more than content to watch Ryan fall apart. Frankly, it’s one of his favorite sights, has been since the first time they crashed together in the locker room after their championship game, where he’d walked away with Ryan’s teeth bruised into his throat. Absently, he presses his mouth to the top of Ryan’s head, the part of him that’s easiest to reach, and tries not to sniffle when Ryan’s hair tickles his nose.

Suddenly, Shane pulls off Ryan with a slight pop. 

“What the _fuck_ , Shane?” Ryan asks, turning his head away from Zack’s shoulder and glaring down at him. If it wasn’t for his heaving chest, blown pupils and flushed face, it might actually be a scary look.

“Do you want in on this?” Shane asks, looking at Zack as he tugs Ryan’s jeans down to puddle around his ankles. There’s a rasp to his voice that makes Zack’s dick twitch in response, and he kind of wants to hook his fingers into the collar of Shane’s sweater and pull him back up onto the sofa.

But that would require way more energy than he actually has, as would sliding to the floor to join Shane, even though blowing Ryan is one of his favorite things to do, so he shakes his head.

“Nah. I’m good up here.”

“Will you two shut the hell up?” There’s an edge to Ryan’s voice that Zack would exploit at any other time, see just how sharp he could get it before Ryan finally snapped and exchanged his bravado for begging, but for tonight, he settles for simply leaning in and dragging his teeth along the line of Ryan’s jaw.

“Quit mouthing off,” he murmurs once he’s reached Ryan’s ear, “or Shane will stop. Right, Shane?”

“You’ve got it,” Shane answers before, with no preamble, he wraps his mouth around Ryan’s dick again and sinks down until the end of his nose is pressed against Ryan’s pubic bone.

Ryan doesn’t shut up after that - between cursing, gasping and borderline _whimpering_ , he’s far from silent - but he does stop backtalking, which Zack considers to be a victory. He continues to busy himself with working on Ryan’s neck, sucking marks down the side of his throat and underneath the collar of his shirt. Eventually, once he’s worked up enough energy, he shifts so that he can lean down and tangle his own fingers in Shane’s hair, splayed on top of Ryan’s.

The deep groan Shane makes in response is only slightly muffled by Ryan’s dick, and Zack assumes that the vibration from it is intense, because that’s what makes Ryan fall over the edge with his hips arched off the couch and his hand painfully squeezing Zack’s. Shane slows down, but he doesn’t move away until Ryan shoves him away with a muttered, “Jesus, are you trying to suck my fucking brains out?”

“Maybe,” Shane answers, leaning backwards and licking his swollen lips. “But look! Not a drop spilled. Told you we wouldn’t have to face Steven’s wrath.” 

“Think you can go two for two?” The question is directed at Shane, but Ryan’s eyes are pointed at Zack. His eyes are heavy and lidded, and there’s a lazy smirk on his face that Zack kind of wants to devour whole. Slowly, Ryan’s gaze drifts down to Zack’s lap, to where he’s very clearly hard in his sweatpants, and Zack swallows heavily as Shane shuffles over a little and drops his huge hands to Zack’s knees.

“Probably. So long as Zack is okay with that.”

Zack swallows again and slides his fingers back into Shane’s hair, which has been pulled into utter disarray. All of the grogginess that plagued him when he awoke from his brief nap has flown the coop, replaced by simple, burning want.

“Yeah,” he replies, breath catching as Ryan starts sucking a mark at the base of his neck. “Show me what you’ve got.”

(By the time they finish up, the couch is miraculously still unstained and Zack is ready to _actually_ go to sleep, a sentiment that is shared by Ryan and Shane, if the way they're heavily draped over him and each other is anything to go by.

He doesn’t know how much useful information the two of them pulled from the documentary before they got distracted, but he’s officially declaring the night’s studying session to be a success.)

**Author's Note:**

> as always, I can be found on [tumblr.](http://banshee-cheekbones.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
